Alone
by AlyssaGrayy
Summary: Inspired by 'Broken' fanfiction by inadaze22. It's five years after the battle of Hogwarts. Hermione broke off her engagement with Ron and left for Italy five years ago, without explanation. Now Hermione has come back to London, and in her loneliness finds an unexpected companion in Draco Malfoy.
1. Chapter 1: Fractured

Inspired by 'Broken' fanfiction by inadaze22, and of course by the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling. It's five years after the battle of Hogwarts. Draco and Astoria have divorced. Draco is a criminal defense lawyer and Hermione is a curse breaker. Hermione broke off her engagement with Ron and left for Italy five years ago, without explanation. Now Hermione has come back to London.

* * *

Despite the usual assumption that she got lost in her reading, Hermione was actually very aware of what was going on in the restaurant around her. She realized how busy the waiters were, and knew it would be a while before she was able to escape. She noted Pansy Parkinson, Draco Malfoy, and Narcissa Malfoy when they walked in. She observed how the three had all changed in the last five years; Narcissa moved more confidently, Pansy's voice was less whiney, and Draco had obtained an air of maturity, though whether it was merely skin deep or not she couldn't tell. Above all, she noticed (though they hadn't yet) Ginny, Harry, and Ron as they came in and sat at a table only a few yards away. Harry and Ron had their backs to her, but Ginny was bound to look up and see her any moment.

Her waitress arrived with Hermione's coffee, "here you are, and now what would you like to eat today Hermi-"

"Actually just the check please," Hermione cut the girl off quietly but sharply, glancing nervously at her old friends' table.

Finally, when she received her check, Hermione scribbled out a signature and hastily stood up. With the promise of escape just at her fingertips, she didn't even notice that Ron's chair was now empty. She didn't notice until he was right in front of her, having just exited the bathroom. Hermione was so shocked that she jumped back, tripping over another patron and winding up on the floor, in pain and red-faced, looking up at Ron Weasley's glaring face. The café went silent, save a few camera clicks. Hermione was certain that Harry and Ginny had noticed her now, but she couldn't look away. She couldn't look away from that face, one that had smiled lovingly at her for just one sweet month of engagement, one that had bickered with her for seven years of school, one that she had never imagined could look at her like this. Like they way he used to look at Draco Malfoy. Like she was a dirty weasel the world would be better without.

Eventually, Ron stepped over her, and walked back to his table without a word, leaving Hermione alone on the floor.

Then, of all people, Pansy Parkinson extended her hand to help Hermione up. Stunned, Hermione took it. Once she was up, Pansy said to her, loud enough for the whole restaurant to hear, "I always knew Ron Weasley is a wanker," and then she led Hermione into the ladies room. Pansy then proceeded to order everyone else who was in the lavatory out. Had it not been for that classically Pansy move, Hermione might have thought that she had mistaken someone else for the venomous Slytherin bully.

"Now you have to go back in there,"

"Absolutely not. I can't show my face back in there?"

"You have to," Pansy stated simply, "trust me dear, my job is all about image. If you leave first, you've lost. We are going back in there, leisurely having our lunch, and showing everyone how little that Weasley rat matters".

"Hey! He's not a rat," Hermione protested.

"Whatever, call him what you want, but don't argue with me. You'll lose".

Hermione and Pansy returned to Hermione's table, and Hermione tried to keep her chin up and her eyes forward as Pansy had instructed her to, but she felt like an obvious fraud. No one would believe she was unfazed by the earlier altercation.

Pansy went on about what she called 'the art of socializing' while Hermione 'half-listened and tried not to look at her old friends' table. She failed. Repeatedly. She couldn't hear their conversation, nor could she see Harry or Ron's faces, but Ginny's brow was furrowed and her hand was on top of Harry's, her thumb stroking his hand. At one point, Hermione thought Ginny looked up and met Hermione's gaze, but the witch looked away immediately and her face didn't change in the slightest. Hermione's chest hurt, and she felt beaten down.

Suddenly, Pansy stopped talking. Hermione looked up at the witch, worried she had been caught not paying attention, but saw Pansy's attention was elsewhere as well. Draco Malfoy was walking up to their table.

He was wearing a grey suit that brought out his grey eyes and fit him so well he looked as relaxed as if he were wearing pajamas. He was taller than he had been, and less greasy. He had the same angular jawline with perfectly crafted stubble. He walked like a jungle cat and talked in a deep purr.

"Pansy, Granger, mind if I join you?"

Hermione glared at Malfoy, certain he was mocking her. Sure, Pansy had changed significantly in the last five years, but she was sure there was no way Malfoy could change enough to be tolerable.

Hermione told him to bugger off at the same moment that Pansy told him it would be a pleasure. He decided to listen to Pansy.

"What do you want Malfoy? Come to make fun of me? Or to remind your friend that she's far too good to be talking to someone like me?"

"Fuck Granger, that's quite a greeting after five years".

"What do you want?" Hermione repeated.

Draco paused thoughtfully, planning which words would most likely get him what he wanted- more information. As a criminal defense lawyer he had learned that in life and in the courtroom the person who is missing information is almost always going to lose. Now that Hermione Granger was back in London, she was sure to be a major player in politics, as well as potentially business and even the social game. Two members of the golden trio publicly hating him certainly wasn't in his favor, a third should be prevented if at all possible.

"My mother was hoping I could convince you to join us for dessert," he said finally.

"Why?" Hermione asked, baffled. She glanced over at Narcissa. Lucius had been in Azkaban for five years now, and it had been five years since Hermione had seen the Malfoy matriarch, but she looked younger than Hermione remembered her.

"She wants to welcome you back to London. Despite the Ministry's ruling that she was an unwilling victim of Voldemort's cruelty, she still feels awful about the part she played. She'd never say as much, but it would mean a lot to her if you accepted an olive branch."

Narcissa caught Hermione's eye and waved. As much as she hated Malfoy, Hermione had nothing against his mother, who had avoided imprisonment in Azkaban when the Order revealed that she had given them information on Voldemort's plans on several occasions, including the day in the Malfoy Manor when Bellatrix had tortured Hermione. Though it hadn't done much good, Hermione was not unaffected by the knowledge of Narcissa's effort. Neither was the ministry, and Narcissa's trial ended with a conclusion that she was akin to a prisoner to her husband and Voldemort. The enormous sum in galleons that she donated to help rebuild Hogwarts and restore the ministry didn't hurt her case either.

As much as Hermione was disgusted by the idea of spending another moment in Malfoy's presence, she had nothing against his mother, and did not wish to offend the witch. Which is how she ended up sat at a table with Pansy Parkinson, Draco Malfoy, and Narcissa Malfoy while Ginny, Harry, and Ron sat at another table, hating her.

* * *

Narcissa had insisted Pansy sit next to her, leaving Hermione sitting beside Draco. She moved her chair as far as was socially acceptable, but was still far too close. Occasionally, his knee would bump against hers. By the way he seemed to study her response, Hermione suspected it wasn't accidental. She struggled to make her face as stoic as his, but she doubted she was succeeding.

"So, I hear you've been in Italy? I've been meaning to go. I assume you've learned Italian by now?" Narcissa inquired.

"I actually knew a bit before I left," Hermione understated. She was practically fluent since she was eight, "but yes, I picked it up while I was there".

"Oh you simply must teach me!" Narcissa said enthusiastically, reaching out to grasp Hermione's hand. Hermione tried not to flinch, "I'm sure if I spoke the language I would be much less hesitant to visit. I've never travelled alone before, and Draco refuses to go with me," Narcissa said, giving a reproachful look at her son.

Hermione agreed, partly in the hopes that it would get Narcissa to stop touching her (it did), party because the woman really wasn't the sort you say no to, and partly because she actually thought she might enjoy it. Narcissa was so aggressively friendly that it was exhausting, but incredibly comforting in a city where Hermione had no friends left.

"Thank you for the dessert and the company Mrs. Malfoy, it was divine," Hermione said, hoping to finally end this lunch and go home to process everything that's happened.

"Oh, please do call me Narcissa," Hermione would certainly not be calling her Narcissa, "and don't thank me, thank Draco. It was his idea to invite you after all," Narcissa said.

What the bloody hell is he playing at, Hermione wondered, shooting him a glance. His expression betrayed nothing, but he bumped his knee against hers again.

* * *

The next day, Hermione dreaded opening the newspaper. She saw, as she expected, the picture of her on the floor in disgrace, but surprisingly, the headline was not 'Hermione Granger Publicly Shamed by Ex-Fiancé' or 'Slag Kicked out of Golden Trio'. Instead, it read 'Ron Weasley is a Wanker'.


	2. Chapter 2: Invitation

When Hermione showed up for coffee and Italian lessons with Narcissa, it was immediately clear that Narcissa had no intentions of actually learning Italian. She assaulted Hermione with personal questions about her family, her job, and her time in Italy. She peppered the conversation with numerous mentions of Draco and his accomplishments. When Narcissa finally began preparing to leave she knew perhaps two more words of Italian than she had before, and Hermione felt as though she had just lost a fencing match.

"Oh! I nearly forgot," Narcissa said with a falsely innocent smile that implied she absolutely did not forget, "you simply must come to miss Cho Chang's banquet Friday evening!"

"Oh no, I couldn't. I haven't been invited," Hermione said.

"You'll be Draco's plus one then!"

Hermione paled, "oh no, I have to work. It's been very busy and-"

Narcissa cut her off, "oh please, you'll have to think of a better lie than that. Dear, this is a great networking opportunity! One you especially need after your long absence.

"Really, I don't-" Hermione tried to protest, but Narcissa acted as if she didn't hear and began putting on her coat.

"Draco will pick you up at eight. Oh don't look so upset dear, you'll be fine. Would I ever lead you wrong?" and before Hermione could get a word in, the witch was gone.

* * *

Friday night at 7:50, Hermione heard a knock on her door. She opened it to find Draco Malfoy, dressed to the nines, who immediately sneered at her sweatpants and loose t-shirt.

"I knew what to expect and yet you still disappoint me granger. Honestly, how did you manage to spend five years in Europe and learn nothing about fashion?"

"Did your mother not get my letters? I can't come tonight"

Draco walked past Hermione and into her apartment as if he owned the place. As if he would ever live somewhere so small and poorly decorated.

"You can, you just don't want to. Mother told me to say that the letters got lost in flight, which is a terrible lie because even your scatterbrained owl isn't that bad at her job. Anyway, she's got blackmail on the both of us. She's already told Cho, both our bosses, and my ex to expect us there. Additionally, she told the minister that you wanted to meet with him at the banquet rather than wait for your meeting later in the week. Pure guess on her part that you had a meeting scheduled, but honestly a witch of your talents, and worldly experience working for a small curse-breaking company? No, you definitely belong in the ministry. You, the minister, and my mother know it. Anyway, if you don't come he'll believe you are standing him up, so accept it and go shower will you? I'll attempt to find something suitable in your wardrobe but my expectations are low." Draco didn't wait for a response, showing how much of his mother's son he was, and strode down the hall to Hermione's bedroom. It wasn't hard to find, her tiny apartment only had the combination kitchen and living room, a bathroom, a closet, and her bedroom, to which the door was open. Hermione felt suddenly nervous about the state of her room. She wasn't exactly the neatest. Her desk was absolutely covered in layers of papers, books, misplaced quills and ink stains. She never made her bed, and her clothes were strewn about on the floor. She blushed and her heartbeat quickened when she remembered that she had left a few pairs of underwear and a bra or two on the floor as well. But, as there was nothing to be done about it now, she merely took a deep breath and headed into the bathroom.

* * *

Hermione came out of the shower, wrapped in a towel and still a bit disoriented at the sudden change in her plans for the night. Well, if you can call reading and a bubble bath 'plans'. Draco looked her up and down, and then looked back up to her hair. "You're going to fix that right? What did you to it at the Yule ball? That looked... decent"

Hermione glared.

Draco threw two dresses her way, and they fell to the floor when she failed to catch them with the one hand that wasn't holding onto her towel. She bent to pick them up, careful to maintain at least some modesty

"What the bloody hell did you do to my robes?" she yelled when she realized that the dresses he had thrown at her were made out of two of her favorite robes.

"Not enough. But they'll have to do. Try them each on and show me. And please granger, do something with that hair."

When she came out again she had wrangled her hair into a somewhat tame ponytail, and was wearing a dark blue silky gown that fell like water from her hips.

"You're insane if you think I'm wearing that other dress, you cut off half the bodice!"

Draco wasn't paying her any mind, simply staring at her thoughtfully. He walked up to her, so close that her breath caught and she took a half step back. He reached up and pulled out her hair tie, and then arranged her curls around her face in as tame a fashion as he could manage. She stood, frozen and looking off to the side at nothing in order to avoid looking at him. Her face felt hot.

"Alright, let's get to the fucking banquet".


	3. Chapter 3: Houses

"Malfoy, I can't do this"

"And yet, you're going to." he said, placing his hand on the small of her back and pushing her forward into the banquet hall.

Conversations stuttered and turned to whispers at her entry. Former member of the golden trio, back again after her mysterious disappearance. Such delicious feed for gossip. A few cameras flashed and she fixed her eyes on her shoes, which were the most fancy pair she owned but still far too casual for this event.

Thankfully, Narcissa rushed the odd pair and bombarded them with inane chatter. She ushered them over to the minister, and demonstrated her amazing skills at social games. She complimented Hermione passionately, while simultaneously stroking the minister's ego. She acted completely innocent, as if she had no motives whatsoever and was just chatting among friends. Her jokes perfectly toed the border between professional and just inappropriate enough to make it seem casual and intimate. Draco played along with his mother's charade like a magicians assistant, practiced and smooth. Hermione attempted to steer the conversation towards work, she didn't have the patience or care for networking. It would be best not to mislead him about what sort of worker she was anyway. She was not the sort to be friends with her boss, or tell inappropriate jokes, or go to parties. Eventually, he excused himself, insisting that parties were not the place to talk about work. Hermione felt like asking him why then did he agree to meet with her at a party, but she felt it would be pointless.

"Do you even want a job?" Draco chastised her as he pointedly led her towards the refreshments table, and away from Narcissa.

Suddenly Draco stiffened, and Hermione followed his gaze to a beautiful woman who had a presence so strong it was as if this was her banquet. She walked up to them with a confident smile, and her gaze never once left Draco.

"Hello Draco, dear".

"Hello Astoria".

"You're looking... typical".

What the fuck did that mean, Hermione wondered, but the woman was pointedly ignoring her existence, as if she were merely a piece of furniture and it was making Hermione mad. Harry and Ron had a reason to treat her like she was nothing, but that didn't mean it wasn't wearing down her spirit. She really didn't feel like feeling even worse about herself because of some snooty elitist.

Hermione stepped up right in front of Astoria, demanding her attention. She held her hand out and smiled sweetly, "Astoria! Lovely to meet you." when Astoria did not shake Hermione's hand, the witch just smiled even sweeter and continued, "your father was - right? So unfortunate. I'm glad you don't share his feelings about muggle-borns. It's certainly no good in todays political climate to be suspected of anti-muggle-born biases."

Astoria reluctantly took Hermione's hand. Hermione dropped the other witches hand almost immediately, and turned to Draco, putting a hand on his arm.

"Draco, dear, isn't that Blaise? Let's say hello, shall we?" and then she led Draco away, treating Astoria as though she had suddenly disappeared from existence.

Once they were out of hearing distance Draco released a breath he had been holding. His eyebrows had jumped up practically into his hair and stayed there. "Wow, you could've been a Slytherin."

"I definitely could not have. Can you imagine?"

"Well you handled that situation with quite a bit of tact and venom"

"Yes, something I never would have done back at Hogwarts. Honestly, back then I couldn't imitate a Slytherin if my life depended on it. Which it did once," Hermione said, thinking back to when she had impersonated Bellatrix Lestrange in Gringotts, "and the way you froze back there, you could have been a Hufflepuffs"

"You take that back".

Draco and Hermione arrived at the table where Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson sat. Blaise looked skeptically from Hermione to Draco and back.

"What's going on here?" he asked.

"We were just discussing how Malfoy was mis-sorted. He'd look more natural in yellow and black, don't you think?"

Pansy nearly snorted. Draco would look dreadful in yellow.

"So you're taking his place in Slytherin then?" Blaise asked.

"I don't think I fit in any house anymore. If ever ever did. Things have changed a lot since we were eleven"

"True," Pansy said. Hermione rose her eyebrows. She had always assumed Pansy was a perfect personification of Slytherin. "That's what you get for letting a hat decide who you're going to be for the next seven years".

"We really aren't who we were back then," Blaise said, but then his gaze shifted to something behind Hermione, "well, at least some of us".

"What the bleeding fuck is Gryffindor's princess doing with you twats?" Theodore Nott exclaimed with a broad smile, swaggering up to their table, and seemingly loving the stares he was getting from the otherwise formal and quiet hall.

"Theo, please" pansy sighed, but Hermione could see her biting her cheek to keep from smiling.

Theo snatched a chair from a neighboring table and pulled it up uncomfortably close to Hermione.

"So princess, your Italian lover ditch you for someone who doesn't correct his grammar in bed? And now you're rebounding with a taste of the dark side?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Pansy opened her mouth to scold Theo, but Hermione interjected, "yep, that's exactly what happened. How'd you guess?"

"Oh, I have excellent people skills," Theo bragged. Then he leaned in as if he was telling Hermione a secret, though she doubted he was capable of whispering, "you know, if you really want a taste of the dark side princess, you should take a bite out of me. I killed my own father you know".

He was clearly trying to provoke a reaction out of her, but she wasn't the same innocent girl she used to be.

"Killing a death eater isn't really what id call evil," Hermione smirked. She may not have been as innocent as she had been back at Hogwarts, but she was still as arrogant. People can only change so much.

Theo didn't lose the mischievous glint in his eye, "yeah, but I didn't kill him because I had a hard-on for muggles or anything. I just wanted to, and the war gave me an excuse"

"Jeez Theo" pansy shook her head. Draco and Blaise were watching Hermione curiously to see how she'd react. She was careful not to let her face reveal anything. In truth, she was somewhere between uncomfortable and amused.

"Theo, you're the one person here I truly don't believe could possibly have belonged to any other house," she said with a slight smile and shake of her head.

Theo grinned and slammed his hand on the table, "shit!," he yelled, once again attracting stares from the banquet's attendants, "you've come a long way from the little Gryffindor princess we used to prank with toads in her soup! You remember that Draco?"

"Please Theo, that was hardly our best".

"What was your best then Malfoy?" Hermione asked with a hint of mischief in her eye that reminded Draco too much of Theo

"Yeah Malfoy," Theo purred, batting his eyelashes in an absurd imitation of Hermione, "what was our best?"

"Hexing your textbooks"

The former Slytherins erupted in nostalgic laughter, and Hermione cocked her head at them, confused.

Pansy blushed, ashamed, but Draco and Theo looked proud as Blaise explained, "we hexed your textbooks to switch the names of witches and wizards to goofy names we made up"

"You tossers! I lost two points on the owls because of that!" Hermione exclaimed. The others burst into laughter again at her distress, and she couldn't help but join them.

"Smoochy Applebaum!" Hermione gasped, suddenly remembering one of them. Their laughter roared louder.

Just then Hermione felt something hit the back of her head rather hard. She turned to see Ron glaring at her across the hall, his wand glowing and Ginny scoldingl. Her merriment quickly evaporated, and Draco could swear she literally shrunk. She turned back and looked down at her hands, her face hot.

Pansy stood up, ready to confront Ron to defend her unlikely new friend, but Hermione grabbed her hand.

"Pansy, please, don't"

"Yeah Pansy," Draco said calmly, "we're Slytherins. We can do better."

Pansy, Blaise, and Theo grinned. Pansy flicked her wand and Hermione watched in horror as dozens of red hairs disappeared from the back of Ron's head, leaving a subtle unappealing bald spot. Theo muttered a spell and Ron's glass suddenly slipped from his hand, spilling butterbeer over his button-down and jeans (much too informal for the banquet, and butterbeer? really?).

"Amateurs" Draco said, he whispered something in Blaise's ear, and then stood up and chimed his knife against his champagne glass, calling the attention of the hall. When it was silent he announced in a smooth, cocky voice "a toast. First, of course, to miss Chang. A beautiful banquet, Cho, I'd expect nothing less from you," he smiled at cho and she blushed like she was still a schoolgirl, though she would likely never have been charmed by Draco back then, "and," Draco continued, "to our own quidditch celebrity! Ron Weasley." Ron's head snapped up, "if someone had told me ten years ago that you would be playing opposite victor krumm himself id have called them a rotten liar. A short run, sure, but its not like anyone else here can say they played in the quidditch world cup! Give us a speech wont you Weasley?" Draco said, his posture and voice perfectly formal, but his eyes mocking. Everyone, even Hermione, knew that Ron had been kicked off of London's team after their crushing loss against -. Even worse, Krumm, Ron's childhood idol, had slammed a quaffle right into Ron and sent him flying through the hoop thing.

Ron's face was red as his hair from rage and embarrassment, but he had no other choice than to stand and give a speech. Or, try to. Blaise, so subtly that Hermione almost missed it, flicked his wand in Ron's direction just before he spoke. Ron stuttered out gibberish.

"Stop" Hermione said, so low that only Draco, seated right next to her, could hear.

"Are you kidding? He's been a right twat to you all night"

"I deserve it."

"Somehow I don't believe you," Draco said, but he motioned to Blaise and in a moment Ron was speaking coherently.

* * *

Pansy invited Hermione to accompany her to the ladies room, and when Hermione refused Pansy sighed and amended her invitation to the refreshment bar.

"I thought you should know, Draco asked Blaise to look into your files in the ministry," Pansy whispered.

Hermione nodded, she wasn't surprised, and her ministry records revealed nothing of her secrets.

"He thinks he's a bloody detective or something. You want my advice?"

"Does it matter what I say?"

Pansy grinned, "now you're getting it sweetie. Look, he's obsessed with other people's secrets, the only way to get him out of your business is to let him think he's got you figured out. I'd suggest you tell him you cheated on Ron," Hermione recoiled at the suggestion, "Simple, believable. I mean honestly it's understandable. You had your shared trauma, you bonded,"

"We already-" Hermione tried to interrupt, to defend herself, but Pansy carried on, ignoring the other witch.

"It didn't even feel like you were rushing into things because you had been friends for so long, but honey you can't marry the first man you date. And jumping right into an engagement? Dear, I thought you were smart. It's totally to be expected that you would need a taste of something different."

"I didn't actually cheat on him pansy! I would never!"

"Well, it's in your best interest to make Draco think you would."

Hermione glanced back at the table where Draco was sitting, and her heart jumped as she met his eyes. Neither of them looked away. She felt that he could see her secrets through her eyes, and for some reason didn't think she could look into those grey, piercing eyes, and lie.

While Pansy had been talking with Hermione, Oliver Wood approached Draco. He had become an Auror, and had repeatedly opposed Draco in court. Though Draco almost always was able to get his client off, Wood certainly made it hard.

"Malfoy, did I just see you with Hermione Granger?"

Draco saw an opportunity, "Yes, she's my date for the evening,"

"I had no idea you two were... close"

Oliver had a clear bias against Draco, certainly not helped by his friendship with Harry potter and the fact that they worked together. But an auror was a good friend to have on your side, and Granger might just be his way in. Draco looked over at Hermione and a plan began to form in his mind. When her eyes met his, he suddenly had the thought that he might actually enjoy this.

* * *

Later, after Hermione had yawned three times in five minutes, they finally left after thanking Cho.

Draco led Hermione back to the car, past the paparazzi.

"I'll just apparate home," she said, stifling another yawn.

"Please, what sort of gentleman would I be if I didn't escort you home?" Draco asked.

Hermione snorted, "You've never really struck me as any sort of gentleman Malfoy. Besides, it's not like this is even a real date, you don't-"

Suddenly Hermione tripped, seemingly on nothing. Before she could recreate the photo from the newspaper of her on her arse, Draco smoothly caught her in his arms. Draco held Hermione in his arms, and smiled down at her, a smile that to anyone else might seem charming but Hermione found more mocking. He held her there a bit longer than necessary as cameras flashed, and Hermione felt increasingly uncomfortable as she clutched onto him for support, wishing she wasn't noticing how muscular his arms were underneath his suit jacket. Finally, he lifted her back to her feet, removing his hand from her side but keeping his other hand on the small of her back as he escorted her to the car.

"What are you playing at Malfoy?"

"I can't win with you Granger, even when I'm trying my best to be polite you doubt my motivation. I'm hurt," he said innocently as he opened her door

"Cut the bull-

He closed the passenger door, cutting her off. When he had walked around to the other side of the car and gotten in she immediately resumed talking.

"Does it count as polite if you continue to act like a complete git?"

"Welcome to high society".


	4. Chapter 4: Next Steps

Hermione was hard at work familiarizing herself with the Ministry's history of curses and their wards. She had gotten the job, somehow, despite clearly boring the minister at Cho's party. It was really impossible not to like Narcissa.

Hermione sat at her undecorated, bland cubicle in the center of the Department of Defense, reading and taking notes. Suddenly, a vase of flowers was set down on her desk. She looked up to see Narcissa's much less loveable son standing beside her.

"Malfoy what the bloody he-"

"Hermione, I was just stopping by to thank you for going to Cho's party with me," Draco said loudly. It seemed to Hermione that he only had two volumes, a dramatic boom and a conspiring whisper. Also since when did he call her Hermione?

"I thought your desk might be in need of a little cheer since you're just starting out," he said, his proper public image faltering as he looked down at her desk with a condescending glance, "I can see I was right about that. I hope you put more effort into your work than you do in... every other aspect of your life."

Hermione bristled. She really wasn't loving the sudden intrusion of Malfoy in her life. She looked at the flowers, at Malfoy in his deep blue suit, and at the curious glances her coworkers were giving them. She put two and two together.

"You fucking tripped me that night at Cho's didn't you? You manipulative arse. I'm not going to let you use me for social capital Malfoy. If you want to win over people who judge you for who your father was, do it on your own".

Malfoys' eyebrows went up. He was visibly reeling and recalculating for a moment before regaining his composure. he leaned in closer, resting his hand on her desk, and lowered his deep voice.

"There's no reason this can't be a mutually beneficial arrangement Granger"

"Save it Malfoy. I may not be a Gryffindor anymore, but I'm not a Slytherin. There's nothing you could offer me that would make me agree to pretend to- to... be your friend"

"Just as superior as ever Granger," Draco sighed, "it wouldn't be so bad. Just be seen in public with me once in a while, pretend not to hate me. My career benefits, your career benefits. It'll show those prats you used to hang around that you're not a pathetic reject they can kick around. And it's not like you have anyone else to spend time with."

"You'd make a terrible salesman"

"Granger, don't be an idiot. It's the smart move, and you were...somewhat bright once"

"Wow, is that really your best? I though Slytherins were willing to do anything to get what they want. You can't even come up with a proper compliment"

Malfoy scowled. True, he had done a variety of unspeakable things in the past to get ahead. It hadn't been easy to drag the Malfoy name out of the pit of mud his father had thrown it in. But usually emotions were not part of the process. He had done his fair share of ass-kissing, sure, everyone knew he wasn't above that. But it was always meaningless, a part he played. Granger was far too bright to fall for his usual false compliments and ego-fluffing. No, to get her to come around, he'd have to be genuine.

And he wasn't even sure he knew how.

Bugger that. There was always another way. After all, he knew she had a secret, All he had to do was find it.

"Think it over. I'm sure you'll come around," Malfoy said with a cool smile before turning on his heel and walking out. He had work to do.

* * *

Hermione packed up her things to leave, only because she wasn't allowed to stay later. She was secretly going to keep working at home, even though she wasn't supposed to take classified ministry files home and she wouldn't be paid for it. The sooner she got through all of this, the sooner she could stop spending so much time in the Ministry office and start dealing with curses, wards, and hexes around London. Plus, she had nothing else to do to keep her mind busy and off of…

As she was making her way out she saw the other late workers; Percy Weasley, Hannah Abbott, and- bloody hell.

Hermione's breath caught and she didn't look away quick enough. Her eyes locked with Harry's. For a moment she felt at home. She remembered the feeling she had when he and Ron saved her from the troll, the feeling that for the first time in her life someone actually wanted her around. She'd do anything for them, even skip studying to get involved in their irresponsible schemes. She even got reprimanded in school! Hermione Granger, in detention! And she never once regretted it. Even now, when Harry's face turned sour and a little sad at the sight of her, and he looked away.

Her heart hurt with an emptiness she knew no one else would ever fill. still, there was something she could do to ease the loneliness, just a little.


	5. Chapter 5: The Best Lies

Hermione stood outside Pansy Parkinson's house. She shifted from her left foot to her right, psyching herself up to knock on the door and cursing the wizarding world's aversion to cell phones. She missed being able to call up Arthur Weasley. They bonded over talking on the phone. He seemed like the only non-muggleborn Wizard that actually lived in the same century as her. Harry had embraced the wizarding world so wholeheartedly that he had never once owned a cell phone. Of course, none of the Weasley's were particularly fond of her now. Not many people were.

Except maybe Pansy.

Hermione knocked.

Pansy answered the door to her gigantic, lavish mansion that she inherited from her parents when her father was killed in the battle for Hogwarts and her mother sent to Azkaban. She wore silky silver pajamas even though it was past noon. She looked surprised to see Hermione, and a bit concerned. I guess it was a bit unrealistic for me to expect her to be happy to see me Hermione thought.

"...Hey," Hermione said awkwardly.

"Hi," Pansy replied hesitantly, waiting for an explanation.

"I need your help".

"I am not giving you a bloody makeover. You may be a mess and I may be a fashion and beauty genius, but I'm not that kind of friend. Find someone else," Pansy said. Hermione's heart jumped at the word 'friend'.

"Um...I don't need a makeover," Hermione said, and Pansy raised an eyebrow. Hermione decided not to notice, "I wanted to talk to you more about what you said at the party...how I should make Malfoy think I cheated on Ron?"

Pansy nodded in understanding, and motioned for Hermione to follow her into the house.

Once they were settled in the living room with some tea, Pansy said, "alright, what changed?"

Hermione flushed, "I don't think we really need to talk about that, do we?"

"Maybe not, but I insist," Pansy said, leaning in with an excited glint in her eyes. Hermione felt she might never get used to hanging out with Slytherins.

"Malfoy's already tried to look into my past once, and now that he's decided to try and use me to... make him seem more likeable, he's definitely not going to stop. It's bad enough my friends hate me, I don't want the whole wizarding world knowing what I've done."

"And what have you done?" Pansy asked. Hermione responded with an exasperated look. "Worth a try," Pansy shrugged, "alright, here's what you do...

* * *

Hermione felt wary as she waited for Narcissa to show up to their weekly coffee. It was hard to know what to expect from Narcissa, but Hermione doubted they'd be speaking much Italian.

Mrs. Malfoy showed up in a long black dress, short black heels, a large black bag, and small green earrings. She almost looked like she should have been holding an opera length cigarette holder.

"Hermione! Lovely to see you," Narcissa greeted her unlikely friend.

"Lovely to see you as well Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione said.

"Please, call me Narcissa."

"Oh no, I couldn't," Hermione blushed. She couldn't quite get the image of this woman and her husband stood behind Voldemort in the horrific moments that Hermione thought Harry was dead.

"Well, then at least call me Ms."

"Oh," Hermione said in surprise before she could stop herself. She knew that Narcissa had sided against her husband in the war, albeit covertly, but this was…

"To tell you the truth dear, I stopped thinking of myself as married four years before the war. Once Voldemort came back, Lucius… changed. I always knew he was more loyal to Tom than he was to me, but I thought it would all change once he was gone. And once our son was born. And truly, it did change. We were in love. He was good to us. For a bit.

I can see you're wondering why I'm telling you this. Most of the people I associate with don't much care about my involvement with the Order. Even the public are satisfied with the Ministry's proclamation that I was a spy and am therefore innocent. But I can tell that's not enough for you. I mean for goodness sake dear you walked into this coffee shop like you had been called to the principal's office. I have no issues talking about my past, I'm not one to keep secrets; so if it helps you to understand me, and understand my son and where he came from, I'll explain.

When Tom Riddle came back into our lives, it wasn't like the first time. It was so much worse. Lucius was obsessed. Terrified and obsessed and mad. It got worse and worse, it was as if the man I loved was dying before my eyes. The day when I knew I was a widow, that I was spending my nights with someone who could not possibly be the man I married, was the day he first hit D-. Um... the day he killed that poor Hufflepuff boy."

Hermione noticed the slip, but pretended as if she didn't, "I'm sorry for your loss," she said. She tried but she couldn't imagine Lucius as anything worthy of love. He must have truly become a different person. She couldn't imagine the pain of having someone you love turn so dark.

Hermione wondered if Harry and Ron felt something similar.

"Thank you dear," Narcissa said.

Hermione felt like this was the moment when she was supposed to confide in the other witch. Like sharing secrets. To her surprise, she felt she actually wanted to tell Narcissa a true secret. But of course she couldn't. Besides, Pansy had told her that Ms. Malfoy was terrible at keeping secrets from people she was close to, which was what their plan depended on.

"I… I wonder if Ron feels something similar," Hermione said, staring down at her hands. Pansy had said the best lies stuck as close to the truth as possible.

"What? No, I can't imagine how anyone could manage not to like you dear. You're smart, kind, beautiful-"

"And a cheater," Hermione finished. She was struggling to keep her mind on her lie, but the idea of such a glamorous woman calling her beautiful had thrown her. No one had called her beautiful since… since Ron. Her eyes welled up with tears, which was convenient for trying to sell her story.

"What happened?" Narcissa asked.

"We were planning the wedding, and we got into a fight because he never helped, he never even listened when I tried to talk to him about it. It was like, suddenly I looked into our future and I felt like I was going to be completely alone. Every problem we would face, every decision, I would have to handle it alone. I think he assumed that just because I could handle everything alone, that meant I wanted to.

We were staying at the Burrow- his parents' house- and I went outside to be alone and cry. And then I started crying even more because I thought that my whole future with Ron would be spent crying alone.

But then… his brother came out. He had seen me crying through his window. He told me he knew what it was like to cry alone. He knew how exhausting it was for everyone to think that you're so different from them that they'll never understand you, so they don't even try.

We talked for hours, about all the things Ron found boring. I had never even considered that a boyfriend, a fiance, should want to talk with their girlfriend about all the things she was passionate about. I think I realized then and there that I needed to break up with him," Hermione's voice caught. Though much of what she was saying was a lie, the parts that were true she had never actually said aloud to another person. Her heart hurt so badly she almost couldn't keep it together, but she also felt so much better somehow.

"I didn't break up with him right then. Instead, I… I had sex with Percy," Hermione blushed. The lie felt wrong leaving her lips. She tried not to imagine it.

"The next morning Percy told me it was a mistake, and I agreed. But he also told me that I couldn't ever tell Ron, or anyone. It would ruin his reputation. So I told Ron I had cheated, though I didn't tell him with who. Even though I didn't want to be with him anymore, I still loved him, and it killed me to see him so hurt, and know that I was the cause of it. I couldn't stand it, and so I left."

Hermione could hardly bring herself to look at the other with, afraid of what she would see in her face. She knew she was risking her disapproval from the start, but Hermione still desperately wanted Narcissa to like her. It felt like she was relapsing on a drug.

Narcissa was silent for a while, her expression unreadable. Finally, she said, "I think you are so brave."

Whatever Hermione was expected it wasn't that.

"I was in a similar situation once. I was too afraid of being alone to ever even consider leaving Lucius. And of course, we had Draco. I used to think my boy needed his father," Narcissa laughed to herself, a sad sort of laugh, "of course, I was wrong. About many things, it turned out. Since Lucius has gone away Draco has grown into a wonderful man.

Anyway, in the last few years of our marriage I was miserable. I felt alone, just like you. I was alone in raising our son, I was alone in managing our house, and if I ever even tried to talk to Lucius about how I felt he got… very angry.

Severus, however, listened."

Hermione's eyebrows rose so high they were practically in her hair, but she kept silent, waiting for the rest of Narcissa's story.

"We never did anything, of course. Nothing physical. And he never told me that he was a spy for the order, not in so many words. But he left hints, gave me the courage to contact them myself and start feeding them information," Narcissa waved her hand, as if this part of the story was inconsequential, "I can't talk to Draco about this, of course. Even Pansy could never understand. Anyway, my point is that I know what it's like to be with someone, but be alone in your heart. I understand dear."

Hermione couldn't hold back her tears, even in the public cafe area. Narcissa moved from her side of the table to sit next to Hermione, and gather the young witch up in her arms. Hermione only cried harder, realizing how unbearably much she had missed a motherly love.


	6. Chapter 6: Loose Lips

Pansy was sitting in the living room of Malfoy manor, waiting for Narcissa. Instead, Draco came in.

"What are you doing here? You didn't tell me you were coming. Are you too busy to send an owl ahead like a civilized person?" Draco joked.

"Actually, I did send an owl. I'm here to see your mother. Ah, there you are Narcissa! Lovely to see you."

Draco gazed at the witches in confusion. Sure, his friend and his mother got on well, but this was a bit odd.

"Why?" Draco asked.

"Why is it lovely to see me? I'm hurt Draco," Narcissa teased.

"You know what I mean," Draco grumbled.

"Pansy said she wanted to talk with me about Hermio-

"About planning my party!" Pansy interrupted. Narcissa put her hand over her mouth, a little too late to maintain any secrecy.

"Anyway, it doesn't concern you, so go on about your day," Pansy waved him off, leading Ms. Malfoy into the other room and closing the door behind them. Almost. The door didn't quite click, and stayed open a sliver.

Draco, of course, moved closer to the door to covertly listen in.

"Hermione told me everything," Pansy started.

"Oh! About the affair?" Narcissa blurted. Pansy shushed her.

"Yes! God cissa, what if that hadn't been what I meant? I can't believe she told you before she told me. Anyway, that's why I wanted to talk to you. You can't tell anyone!"

"Well of course dear, I know that."

"I know that you know, but sometimes you… slip."

Narcissa put her hand over her heart, offended, "I do not!"

Pansy sighed dramatically, "fine, whatever, just don't let Draco find out," she pleaded

Narcissa cocked her head to the side, "why not?"

"Because it's a secret!"

"Well yes, but surely it's fine if Draco knows. They're so close after all."

She is seriously delusional, Draco thought.

"Hermione said she doesn't want him to know. She doesn't trust him," Pansy explained.

"Well that's ridiculous. I trust my son with my life," Narcissa said proudly. Pansy sighed and raised her eyebrows at the older witch.

"Fine! Fine, I won't say a word," Narcissa said.

"Especially about Percy, everything would be so bad for dear Hermione if that got out," Pansy added, and Narcissa nodded in understanding.

The two witches had given Draco a lot to think about.

Immediately after Pansy left, Draco cornered his mother, "What was that about?" he asked.

"Oh nothing dear, just some things for her magazine."

"I though she said you two were going to talk about her party?" Draco asked, lifting one eyebrow.

"Oh... um, well yes, we discussed both," Narcissa faltered.

Draco sighed sadly, "mother, I thought you trusted me?"

"Oh Draco dear! Of course I do, it's just that for some reason Hermione doesn't!"

"Hermione?" Draco asked, smiling triumphantly on the inside but full of concern on the outside.

"Oh drat," Narcissa chided herself, "I wasn't meant to say that. Forget I said that."

"Please mother, if something's wrong with Hermione, I want to help. She seems so guarded around me, like she's worried I might judge her for something…"

"Oh you would never! I'm sure you would be so supportive. Honestly, there's no one better to confide in than you dear. And there's nothing to worry about, she's safe, I promise."

"I just wish I could show her somehow that she can trust me…"

Narcissa but her lip, "maybe… maybe you could tell her, just casually bring it up, about that time you caught me sneaking out to see Severus. Tell her how understanding you were. You never made me feel guilty for that Draco dear, and you have no idea how much that meant to me."

"Of course mom, I'm glad. Hopefully I can help Hermione feel better too," Draco told his mother. Then he turned and headed to the Ministry. He needed to talk to a certain Head of the Department of Magical Transportation.

* * *

Draco headed triumphantly to Granger's sad little apartment. He had gotten what he needed out of the pretentious Weasley brother, and even managed not to reveal his own hand. Percy still thought he and Granger were the only ones who knew his secret. And Malfoy had confirmation of what his mother's loose lips had implied. Honestly, Severus had accomplished an impossible job keeping Narcissa from slipping up and letting Lucius know of her betrayal.

Percy's uncomfortable expression at the mention of Hermione's name, his way too passionate denial of knowing anything about why Ron and Hermione had broken up.

Hermione answered his knock, dressed in frumpy pajama pants and a loose, thin tank top. She had the confused, squinty look of someone just woken up. Draco wondered to himself if he had ever seen her exposed shoulders before.

"Merlin Hermione, it's only half nine."

"Bugger off Malfoy," Hermione said, closing the door.

Draco pushed back on the door, and stepped into the apartment.

"Fuck, please don't let there be another banquet," Hermione grumbled.

Draco laughed, "you're surly when you're tired Granger," when she merely glared harder, he gave in, "no, actually we're going to a carnival Saturday," her informed her.

Hermione crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows. She was not in the mood for Malfoy's smug looks and vague answers. She was tired of his little mysterious detective routine.

"Fine, fine, you don't have to beat it out of me Granger, I'll let you in on what's going on," Draco joked, holding his hands up in defeat, "see, I'm a criminal defense lawyer, as you know, so digging up people's secrets is my job. And I'm very good at my job."

For a moment, Hermione's heart jumped. What if their plan hadn't worked? What if he had found her real secret?

"So I was talking to a certain Weasley brother earlier," Hermione's shoulders relaxed, but thankfully Malfoy was too caught up in himself to notice, "it seems I found a little more incentive for you to help me. I'll help your career, help you move on from… from your old life, help you show them you don't need them, and I can help you keep your little secret."

Fuck, blackmail, I should have predicted this Hermione thought. And truthfully, she did predict it, she had just chosen to hope for the best. Merlin, no matter how hard I try, I just can't keep my guard up in this city.

"I wasn't having any problems keeping secrets before you came along," Hermione sneered, "and I am not interested in pretending to be your friend."

"Not friend, girlfriend," Draco corrected, smirking when it made Granger blush, "people tend to trust someone more if they're in a committed relationship." When Hermione crossed her arms stubbornly, Malfoy added, "and people tend to trust someone more when they haven't cheated on their fiance."

Hermione flinched, and Draco knew he had her. He had hoped that last cutting comment might even get a tear or two out of the witch, maybe even a hurt, vulnerable look. Unfortunately, he would have to settle for a defeated slump of her shoulders.

"Why a carnival?" the witch asked, a masked admission of defeat.

Draco smiled mischievously, "I'm hoping you're afraid of heights."


	7. Chapter 7: Hiss

_Thanks for the reviews! They warm my heart and help me to keep writing 3._

* * *

Hermione went to the carnival, but she also invited Pansy and Blaise. She couldn't let Malfoy win entirely. Plus, this way, she wouldn't be forced to actually talk with him. Honestly, a conversation with Draco Malfoy? Who would want to hear about his tough decisions about how to spend his unbelievably large sum of galleons, or how he managed to get a Voldemort copycat off with only a month in Azkaban because he never actually succeeded in killing any muggles because his venomous snake had bit him.

Truth be told, Hermione wasn't crazy about heights. She was always shit on a broom because she couldn't relax and apparently the dumb wooden stick could 'sense' that. Normally she could handle a ferris wheel with no problem, but wizard carnivals weren't quite the same as the muggle ones Hermione had gone to as a child.

Children zoomed by on brooms that could only fly four feet off the ground. Vendors everywhere were selling chocolate frogs, jellybeans, and popcorn that popped when you put it in your mouth. Magical creatures like hippogriffs and young dragons were on display for people to feed, and metamorphagi flew around mocking people and dodging hexes. There were dueling stages for friendly (and often drunken) duels where a muggle carnival may have a bell and a hammer to 'measure your strength'. One thing Hermione saw that didn't seem any different from muggle carnivals to her was a seer with tea and a crystal ball telling vague fortunes.

Blaise and Pansy were competing to see who had better aim, firing spells at small bottles far away. Blaise came away proudly holding his new stuffed phoenix (which could actually fly and would someday burst into flames without warning).

"Care for a go?" Draco asked, motioning to the booth.

"Waste your money on something you might actually win," Hermione scoffed.

"Oh wow, who would've guessed Hermione Granger would be competitive," Draco rolled his eyes, "what _do_ you think I have a fair chance at?"

Hermione made a big show of scrunching up her face and resting her chin in her hand, as if trying to think of something.

"What about the Broken Broomstick?" Malfoy suggested devilishly.

Hermione's cockiness evaporated, but Malfoy wouldn't let her back down, and practically dragged her over to the booth, ignoring her protests.

The Broken Broomstick was a wizard carnival game similar to mechanical bulls in the muggle world. A wild, unpredictable thing one was meant to try and hold onto for as long as possible before it threw them off, but this one was up in the air. There was a net underneath, but it wasn't much comfort to Hermione. Nor was Malfoy's assurance that he would be ready with a 'wingardium leviosa' to catch her when she fell. His smug look as he said it certainly didn't help.

Malfoy agreed to go first. Granger was making such a scene about it he really didn't have a choice. He lasted a minute and forty-eight seconds. Hermione could already hear his smug gloating.

Draco rolled off the mat, laughing at himself in a way that Hermione found… difficult to be annoyed by.

"Show us that Gryffindor courage now Granger," Malfoy said, pushing her towards the broom.

Hermione didn't even bother to command the broom 'up', suspecting it would only smack her in the face. She picked it up and swung her leg over. She had intending to wait a moment, and then take off, but the moment her leg was over, the broom took off. She clung to it for dear life, and squeezed her eyes closed. She felt it violently twist her up and down, and upside-down. It spun her around in circles so quickly Hermione had no idea which way was up, but she wasn't about to open her eyes to find out.

Finally, the broom slammed her into the net and Hermione gratefully took the opportunity to let go. She lay there, sorting out her breathing and collecting herself, before finally looking up at the timer.

A minute and fifty seconds.

Draco's laughter reacher her ears, but it wasn't smug like she was expecting, it was more like the lighthearted way he laughed after his turn.

"Fucking hell Granger! I thought your hair couldn't get any more wild!" he laughed, "with you moving around so fast, it looked like fur! Like a terrified cat!" Malfoy laughed so hard he nearly doubled over.

For a moment, maybe because she was so disoriented, maybe because the situation was too bizarre to react in any rational way, but for a moment Hermione stopped thinking. She would later deny it, but in the moment she laughed and hissed at him.


	8. Chapter 8: Fresh Start

**_Ah! Writing is hard! I'm in my last month of undergrad and I'm scrambling to lease and apartment and get a job in a new state while also coping with a lot of depression and anxiety! But Dramione tends to make me happier, so I hope it does the same for you._**

Hermione and Draco were wandering around the carnival, taking in the sights. Well, Hermione was taking in the sights, Draco was mostly just chuckling at how wide-eyed and innocent Hermione looked. You would think after all the things she'd seen, a magical carnival wouldn't be much, but apparently not.

"Hey, can you hold this?" Malfoy asked, extending his closed hand to Hermione. When she reached out her palm to him, he slipped his empty hand into hers. She tried to hold back an amused smile, and rolled her eyes at him. She almost considered letting him continue to hold her hand.

But then she saw a reporter with a camera, and her smile vanished. That's why he was holding her hand, to make everyone think they were dating. Of course, obviously. Hermione knew that, after all that's why they'd come here. This wasn't a date, far from it, she was here because he was blackmailing her. Albeit with a false secret, but the effect was the same. Malfoy's hand suddenly felt gross in hers, and she pulled away.

In response to his questioning look, she said, "they've already got the picture," motioning towards the reporter. Draco pursed his lips, but didn't respond.

Pansy suddenly came up behind Draco, and jumped onto his back screaming, "I'm a dragon rider! Fly dragon!" She kicked him in the side as she roared, thrusting her kebab stick in the air like a sword. Draco rolled his eyes, and shook the girl off.

"Would you quit that already?" he asked bitterly, but an amused smile betrayed him.

"If you didn't want to be treated like a dragon, you shouldn't have called yourself one," Pansy replied defiantly.

"I didn't choose my name you dork," Malfoy rolled his eyes. Then, a mischievous grin broke across his face and his eyes lit up, "Aquamenti!" he called, and water shot from the tip of his wand and drenched Pansy, who shrieked in response. Draco doubled over laughing. Pansy angrily began kicking at the wizard's shins and punching his arm. "Ow! Hey, hey! If you didn't want to be watered, you shouldn't call yourself a flower!" he laughed.

Hermione watched in awe at the playful interaction. She still wasn't used to how _normal_ these Slytherins acted. In school they had always seemed so distant, so cold. She struggled to match up the image of Draco Malfoy she once saw with the man in front of her. The fact that she was only here because he was blackmailing her helped.

Hermione suddenly got the feeling that she was being watched, and she turned to see Blaise's calculating eyes on her. She waited for him to look away, but he didn't. After a long moment of eye contact, Blaise finally spoke. Pansy and Draco were too busy firing spells at one another to notice.

"What are your parents like?" Blaise asked simply. The question caught Hermione off guard, and she merely stared back with her mouth hung open. Blaise continued on, he wasn't even looking at her, "I'll bet they're very supportive. Obviously they push you to be your best, no one becomes a prefect without ambitious parents. But when you went home for the summer they probably hugged you tight and told you how much they missed you. I'll bet they cooked you your favorite meal. When they found out you were petrified in second year, they might not of understood what was going on, but I'll bet they stayed up all night worrying about you," Blaise went on, staring after Malfoy and Pansy with a distant expression. Hermione's eyes were wet with tears, and she struggled to keep them from spilling over.

"Your parents probably tried their best to give you a happy childhood," Blaise went on. He paused for a long moment, and Hermione wondered if that was all he intended to say, but eventually he continued, "our parents weren't like that. When you're eleven, all you really are so far is what your parents want you to be. Slytherins are ambitious because that's what our parents care about most. It didn't matter to them if we were smart, or loving, or brave. We had to be the best. And the best… don't get to have water fights. They don't get to go to fairs. They don't waste time with hugs and letters asking you if you've made any friends yet," Blaise finally turned to Hermione, and she blinked rapidly to try and hide her tears before he saw them. Blaise's face was hard to read. His eyes were serious, and dark, but they seemed to be pleading with her to understand.

"We may have seemed… cruel to you. And maybe we were. Actually, we definitely were. Many of us still are, and I'm not trying to make excuses. What I'm trying to say is, we didn't get childhoods. But unlike our parents generation, we've gotten a second chance. The war changed a lot, but what people don't like to remember is that most of us Slytherins lost our parents. Whether they're dead or in Azkaban, we were all orphaned at eighteen. You can't imagine what that's like Hermione, but you can't be the same person you were after something like that," Blaise said, not unkindly, but Hermione's heart hurt like someone was strangling it. Blaise turned back to watch Malfoy and Pansy, who were both soaking wet and wrestling on the ground now.

"Everyone sees us as the hiers of Death Eaters. But we're free of that now. Now that they're gone, now that we've lost everything we've ever known, we get a chance to be happy, to be young. But everyone still watches us closely, waiting for us to follow in our parents' footsteps. I can see you doing it too," Hermione opened her mouth to insist that she wasn't, but then stopped. It would be a lie, and he knew it.

"I just want people to understand. I want to meet someone new and not have them immediately distrust me because of my last name. I want someone to hear the word Slytherin and not just think of Voldemort and evil. I don't to be just a Death Eater's son. So even if it's just you, I'm hoping you'll see that we're just trying to get by. I'm glad there's at least someone who's giving us a second chance."

Hermione was speechless. She realized then that Blaise didn't know she was being blackmailed into hanging out with them. He just thought that she genuinely wanted to, that she had other options but had chosen this one. She couldn't imagine what if must be like to have everyone assume the worst about you, or to grow up feeling like you had no choice of who to be.

She looked back at Pansy, and as if for the first time saw a girl who had lost both of her parents, who had after that crushing loss pulled herself up, fought through a world of people who only saw her last name and who she used to be when she was a child, and managed to become a confident, successful, and even kind woman. Hermione stared with wonder at the witch, who was giggling and whose eyes shown with joy. Hermione hadn't had to deal with half the shit that Pansy had, and yet she could hardly bear to smile most of the time. Even now, traitorous tears were stinging Hermione's eyes and trailing down her cheeks. She moved to wipe them away, but then stopped. Blaise had left himself so vulnerable, it would be rude to respond with inhibition.

Hermione turned to face Blaise again, and he met her eyes. His expression was still serious, pride evident in the way he held his chin up. He had just left himself exposed to her, and it was too late to take it back. Hermione would not make him regret it, even if she hadn't actually meant to give the group of Slytherins a second chance.

Hermione stretched out her hand, "nice to meet you Blaise. My name's Hermione," she said. He tilted his head in confusion, and then smiled and accepted her hand.

It was about time for a fresh start. Especially because everything Hermione thought she knew back in Hogwarts was turning out to be so, so wrong.

Pansy and Draco rejoined the new friends, and they shook themselves like dogs, water from their hair hitting Blaise and Hermione in the face. Hermione suddenly realized she was glad to be there. Even if Malfoy was a manipulative snake, Hermione found herself genuinely caring for Pansy and Blaise. And maybe a manipulative snake wasn't the worst thing to be.


	9. Chapter 9: Ferris Wheel

Hermione was comforted to see a good old-fashioned ferris wheel. Though she loved the magical carnival, she'd always loved ferris wheels. Draco noticed her staring at it, and he led them all over. Pansy ushered Blaise into a cart. When Draco and Hermione tried to get in with them, Pansy pushed them away and stuck her tongue out at Draco. Hermione and Draco stepped into the next cart on their own, but before they could close the door a short, beady-eyed man with curly blonde hair shoved through the line and into their cart. Hermione's jaw clenched, and she leaned closer to Malfoy and hissed, "get rid of him or I'll tell him you wear clip on ties."

"You wouldn't," Malfoy said, but one look at her furious eyes told him she would.

"We're not interested in an interview," Draco said firmly, and reached to reopen the door to the cart.

"No, no of course," the reporter went on quickly, closing the door back again just before the ride started up, "but while we're stuck together, we might as well get to know each other. I'm Marcus Skeeter, son of Rita Skeeter, and of course you're Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger, part of the infamous golden trio. Tell me Hermione, where are the other two members of everyone's favorite wizarding team?"

Hermione stuttered, but Skeeter went on, firing questions rapidly, "how do they feel about your new relationship with Draco?"

"Um… well, people drift apart sometimes," Hermione said quietly.

"Drift apart!" exclaimed, "you're trying to tell me you and your _fiance_ Ron Weasley, who you survived a _war_ with, just drifted apart?"

"Evidently, yes," Draco hissed, putting his arm around Hermione's shoulders and pulling her into his chest and shielding her from Marcus. She was stiff against him, but didn't pull away.

Skeeter changed tactics, "have you met each others parents yet? I imagine that'd be awkward. Does Narcissa approve? Or is she still holding onto those anti-muggle biases?" Draco's face became so dark Hermione half expected him to snarl.

"My mother," Draco said slowly and clearly, "risked her life by going against Tom Riddle during the war. What exactly would you have her do to prove herself further?"

Skeeter faltered under Draco's dark glare, but quickly replaced his fear with a hungry expression, "n-nothing of course! Narcissa Malfoy is a beautiful icon in a glamorous world. Of course she would welcome Hermione with open arms. My sources tell me you two actually get together for tea weekly, is that right?" Skeeter asked, turning to Hermione, but didn't pause long enough for an answer, and turned back to Draco, "so why haven't you met her parents yet? You don't have any anti-muggle bias, of course," Skeeter's tone clearly implied the opposite.

"Of course," Draco said, "We're making plans to have dinner with Hermione's parents soon," Draco wasn't used to using Hermione's first name, and it came out of his mouth awkwardly.

Hermione's heart stopped beating, and she shifted away from Malfoy slightly. Skeeter noticed her aversive reaction, and turned back to her eagerly, "perhaps it's your parents who don't approve then?"

Draco jumped in when Hermione remained silent, "did you not just hear me say I'm meeting them soon?" he withdrew his wand from his pocket, "wingardium leviosa," he said with a flick of his wrist, and in a moment Marcus Skeeter was being dropped into Pansy and Blaise's cart.

Draco sighed and put his wand back in his pocket, "the press is going to love that," he grumbled.

"Well levitating someone _is_ very rude and dangerous," Hermione pointed out, "though I can't honestly say I wasn't considering doing something like that myself."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, Malfoy's arm was still around her. They were near the top of the ferris wheel now, and the cold wind was blowing stray locks of her hair around wildly. Hermione was wearing a dark blue sweater, but she still shivered in the open air looking down at the lights of the carnival. Draco felt her shiver, and began rubbing her arm. Hermione was about to scoot away from him, but he was incredibly warm. Even though she wasn't leaning against him anymore, her left side was still warmer than her right because it was nearer to him.

"Nice up here, isn't it?" Draco commented, looking out at the black night.

"You know muggles invented the ferris wheel," Hermione responded, trying to provoke him.

The corner of Malfoy's mouth lifted into a half smile, "I didn't know that actually."

They sat in silence another moment.

"You've changed," Hermione remarked.

"Losing your father and realizing you fought on the wrong side of a war will to that to someone," Malfoy responded casually.

Another silence.

"You didn't exactly fight on either side," Hermione corrected. When Draco turned to her with a raised eyebrow she said, "well you didn't _fight_. During the war. You didn't kill or even wound anyone."

Malfoy shook his head, "that doesn't make me innocent, it just makes me a coward."

"You're not a coward," Hermione said quickly, her eyebrows scrunched together.

"Oh?" Draco asked, tilting his head and looking down at the witch.

"Well you were conflicted, right?" Draco nodded slowly. "Your family taught you one thing and you were beginning to learn another. We were only children, after all. I just think if there was something you truly believed in, you would fight for it."

"You presume to know me quite well for a fake girlfriend."

Hermione flushed, and looked down, "am I wrong?" she asked, her voice still proud and defiant.

Malfoy paused for long Hermione assumed he wasn't going to answer, but then he said quietly, "no. No I don't think you are."


	10. Chapter 10: Dancing

_An actually decent sized chapter! What decent writer has possessed my keyboard? I realize the story doesn't flow very well, I'll fix everything and add more detail and make it cohesive when I finish probably. Maybe. I've never finished a story before, but I really want to finish this one._

" _Another_ party?" Hermione groaned.

"Oh come one, the last one wasn't so bad," Draco said.

"Don't you lot ever work?"

"This is work."

"I don't see how."

Draco sighed, and rubbed the bridge of his nose to fight off a headache. For a clever girl, Granger was stubbornly ignorant about things she didn't care for.

"Come on, it's Pansy's party, would you really deny her?" Draco asked.

"She'll forgive me," Hermione said shortly. Clearly she didn't know Pansy very well yet, because Draco knew she most certainly would not.

"We had a deal," Draco reminded the witch sternly.

The witch sighed, "you could have at least given me some advanced notice," she snapped, "I could have plans."

Draco laughed, which only made Granger angrier.

"Whatever, let's go," Hermione said, grabbing her wand and shoving it in her skirt pocket.

Draco stepped between Hermione and her front door, "not dressed like that," he said, looking disapprovingly at her loose, plain white button-down that was half-tucked in to a deep blue knee-length skirt.

Hermione looked up at him with pursed lips and a stubborn glare, "try and stop me," she challenged.

A hint of devilish mischief flashed in Draco's eyes at the prospect, but he allowed the witch to step around him and out the door. They may be playing at lovers, but he certainly wasn't about to undress her. Besides, Pansy certainly wouldn't allow Granger into her house looking like that.

Sure enough, the moment Pansy saw the pair step into the ballroom, her face became pale. She immediately apparated to their side, and pushed Granger back out the door into the main hallway.

"I'm stealing your date," Pansy called to Draco over her shoulder, and he chuckled as Pansy dragged Granger down the corridor and out of sight.

Draco was mingling with Blaise and a few of Blaise's coworkers when Pansy and Granger returned. Pansy had changed outfits as well, demanding attention as she re-entered wearing a shimmering golden dress that hugged her form and shone nearly as bright as the chandeliers. Still, Draco managed to look past his over-dramatic friend, and his eyes fell on Hermione.

She was wearing a deep blue gown, the same rich hue that her skirt had been, and only a little shorter, reaching just above her knees. However, this gown flowed out, lively and soft while her skirt had been straight and stiff. With each slight movement Granger made, the dress swirled around her like it was made of undying waves, never fully settling. The bodice was simple, with short plain sleeves and a modest, square neckline, but it was tight enough that the witch's slight curves were noticeable.

Draco's thoughts took him back to the Yule ball, when he had seen Granger for the first time with her hair out of her face. When she danced with Vicktor Krum in the center of the room, and all eyes were on her. Now, eight years later, Granger looked like a shadow behind Pansy, who looked like a glittering star. Still, Draco's eyes were on Hermione.

Draco strode forward, his eyes never leaving Hermione as he maneuvered around the other party guests, ignoring those who tried to greet him. Granger didn't even notice him until he was right in front of her, asking her to dance.

Hermione's lips parted in surprise, but Pansy pushed her forward into Malfoy's arms, and Hermione stumbled. It wasn't exactly a promising start, but Malfoy placed his hand firmly on Hermione's back and guided her towards the dance floor confidently. He exaggerated his steps and moved slowly, and Hermione followed along well enough, "don't look at your feet," he told her, "trust me, it will only mess you up more. Just listen to the music and feel where my hands are telling you to go."

Hermione looked at him, lost, and so he stepped backwards and pulled her forward with his right hand that rested on her back. He lead her in a simple box step, gently pushing her in the direction he intended to go. Though she didn't step in time to the music, and moved a few moments after Draco already had rather then moving simultaneously, she managed to understand how he was telling her to move. Then Draco lifted his left hand, and pushed the witch lightly with his right, turning her slowly. The skirt of her dress brushed against his legs like a whisper as she turned.

Hermione was a quick learner, of course, and soon they were gliding around the room in step. Draco twirled Hermione around, and pulled her back to him. The world was spinning around her and all she could focus on was him. When she stepped on his foot, Draco smiled smugly at her, and she glared in response. Malfoy pulled her closer to him, so her chest was nearly touching his and her chin rested on his shoulder. She didn't resist, only because this way she didn't have to look at his face. They swayed together, the music moving them gently like soft wind. But then, over Malfoy's shoulder, Hermione's eyes locked with Ron's. Hermione pulled away from Malfoy.

"I'm sorry," Hermione mumbled, before turning away from Malfoy and rushing out of the room, into the hallway.

Draco looked to where Hermione had been looking, and saw Ron glaring after the fleeing witch. Draco's eyes narrowed and he clenched his fists. He considered going over there and introducing his fists to Weasel's face, but instead he turned and stormed after Hermione.

He entered the hallway, and didn't find Hermione among the few people there. He turned the corner into another hallway, and checked the rooms. No Granger. He turned down another corridor, and another, growing more and more angry as he went. _Why the bloody hell does Pansy need a house this fucking large?_ Draco thought, ignoring the fact that his house was just as large, if not larger.

Finally, he found the witch perched on a window seat in a dark, rarely used hallway. Her wild hair and part of her face shone in the moonlight.

"What the fuck Granger?" he started angrily.

Hermione looked up in surprise, "what?"

"You left me out there alone like a bloody idiot!" he shouted.

"Oh please, I'm sure hardly anyone noticed."

"I bloody well noticed!"

"I needed a moment!" Hermione shouted back, allowing him to rile her up once again, "why are you so angry at me? You're behaving like a child."

"I'm not angry at you! I'm just angry!" Draco yelled, his breath coming hard.

"Why?" Hermione glared, standing up to face him.

"Because you let that fucking Weasel affect you so much! I get it, you broke up, he hates you, get over it!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. She'd nearly forgotten how much of an absolute git Malfoy could be, "you wouldn't understand."

"Oh, I wouldn't? You were engaged for one fucking month! I was married for three years!"

"It's different!"

"Why? You think I didn't care? That I didn't love her? That seeing her face doesn't hurt? Of course it does! But I never abandoned you!"

Hermione's anger calmed as she processed this. Malfoy was left panting, slowly realizing how vulnerable he had let himself become. He had never been able to think clearly around this damn muggle-born.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said finally, avoiding Malfoy's intense gaze.

There was a pause.

"Prove it. Dance with me." Malfoy said. Hermione looked at him curiously, but his dark features revealed nothing.

"What?"

"I was promised a dance Granger," Draco said, pulling her up from the bench and looping his arm around Hermione's waist. He lifting her right hand to his shoulder, held her other hand, and to the faint sound of the music down the hall, they began to dance.

He held her closer now that they were all alone. Hermione blushed, and continued to avoid Draco's eyes. Now that they were alone, she didn't have to feign confidence and pretend that this didn't feel strange, that she wasn't used to being so close to him.

Then, he pulled her even closer, and moved her left hand that he had been holding up to his other shoulder, and placed his hand on her waist. Now they were much closer, his cheek touching her hair and her small frame pressing against him. Hermione was tense, and it made her tense up even more with the realization that he could feel how tense she was. She was all too aware of his hands on her waist, softly moving her hips along with his as they danced around the hallway. They were both glad the other couldn't see their face.

"Why did you break up?" Hermione asked quietly. Draco could feel Hermione's breath on his neck as she spoke. He sighed, and his breath cause a few of Hermione's stray hairs to quiver.

"We disagreed, about nearly everything; whose parents to spend christmas with, where to live, whether to have children," Draco recounted, still dancing slowly, "it might've been fine, we could have worked through it, but we never really tried. We never fought, with each other or for each other. We simply began coming home from work later and later. I tried once, to argue with her. I don't know why, I suppose I just wanted to see some passion in her, passion she had for her work and for her family, and at one point for me. I told her Cambridge was a terrible place to live, and only pompous muggles lived there. Instead of arguing back, perhaps pointing out that I'm more pompous than any muggle could ever hope to be, Astoria merely told me that we were too different. I told her I liked our differences, and she told me that was because I didn't like myself, and she wanted to be with someone who liked themselves, and was proud of their name."

Malfoy was silent for a long while, but he continued swaying back and forth with Hermione, holding her close.

"She might have even been right," Draco said thoughtfully, "I don't know. All I know is that I want someone who is willing to change with me, not to relax and just be content staying the same. If I'm not proud of my name then I want someone to stand by me as I make a new name for myself. Astoria left me, but I'm glad she did. Well, now I am anyway," Draco had slowed his steps so much they were basically standing still now, leaning on each other. "I think couples are meant to be partners," Malfoy continued, "I watched my parents live separate lives, on opposite sides of a mansion, as if they were nothing more than neighbors. My mother turned around one day and found a man she didn't recognize. If I ever remarry, I know I will never be in a marriage like the one my parents had. I've learned from their mistakes," Malfoy said resolutely.

Hermione racked her brain for a proper response, "I'm glad Astoria left you," she said, and then rushed to explain when she realized how harsh that sounded, "I'm sorry, no, what I mean is… if she wasn't going to be your partner, I'm glad you have a chance now to find someone who will. Someone who might fight with you, but at the end of the day will fight for you as well," she finished awkwardly.

After a moment, Malfoy said softly, "thank you."

Then, Draco pulled away slightly, and kissed Hermione lightly on the cheek, "come on," he said, turning and walking back towards the main hallway, "I'll take you home. We'll beg Pansy's forgiveness tomorrow."


	11. Chapter 11: Vulnerable

_What? An update? Am I dreaming? No reader, you are not dreaming. I have resurfaced out of the cold black abyss I sleep in when I'm not writing. Please forgive my disappearance._

Draco and Hermione arrived at Hermione's flat, and when Hermione stepped inside and turned to say goodbye to Malfoy, he slid past her and into the apartment.

"Excuse you," Hermione said.

"Come on Granger, the night just started and neither of us has anything else to do. Let me stay for a drink and a chat at least. Though I don't suppose you have any alcohol."

Hermione sighed, and closed the door. Then she went into the kitchen and came back out with two shot glasses and a bottle of maple whiskey. Malfoy whistled joyfully, "Merlin Granger! You are full of surprises."

Hermione sat down at the table, and Draco sat across from her. She poured two shots, and offered one to Malfoy, who offered his up for cheers, tapped it down on the table, and drank it down. Hermione mirrored him. Draco watched her carefully, and noted that she did not balk at the burning liquid. She had certainly changed since Hogwarts.

"How long are you going to let that Weasel torment you?"

Hermione sighed, "can we not talk about that now?"

Draco shrugged. It didn't matter to him, after all. He poured them both another shot, "Were you alone in Italy?" he asked.

"At first," Hermione said, "but I've learned it's hard work to keep people out."

"Yes," Draco agreed, "some people are persistent." He seemed not to grasp the irony. "But you left them?" he prompted.

"Yes," Hermione answered simply.

"Why?" Draco asked, exasperated. Though he usually enjoyed prying information out of people, at the moment it just felt tedious.

Hermione paused, "nothing more there for me to learn," she said carefully. Draco debated whether to press the matter, but they were having a decent night, and so he let it go for the time being.

"I imagine you missed your parents as well," he commented, "or did they visit you in Italy?"

Hermione managed to keep her face neutral, but her body tensed and Draco noticed. "They actually moved."

"Oh?"

"To Australia."

"Really? So far from their only daughter?" Hermione stayed silent. Malfoy hadn't really asked her a question, after all. "What are they like?" Draco asked, bored of Granger's clipped answers.

"Why do you care?" Hermione tried not to snap. She was also enjoying the relative civility.

"Come on, we already know each others' dirty secrets, what's the point being so defensive still?"

"You didn't answer my question," Hermione pointed out.

"I asked you first," Draco teased childishly. When Granger merely stared back evenly he got up, "Geez Granger lighten up a little," Malfoy said, and he walked behind her and began massaging her shoulders. Hermione tried to jump away, but he held her tight.

"I think the most relaxed you've ever been must have been when you were petrified," he joked. Hermione didn't laugh, but after a minute her shoulders relaxed under his fingers as they slid over her skin, and she let out a quiet sigh. Draco's hands moved in circles, and pressed hard into her neck and shoulders. He slipped his fingers under the collar of her dress, and massaged deep into her upper back.

"You know, this would be easier with your shirt off," Draco smiled. Hermione jerked away, harder this time, stood and whipped around to glare at Malfoy.

"What, you don't trust me?" he asked, innocent as a snake.

"Not even a little."

"If I try anything you don't like you can always just hex me," Draco pointed out, "or you might find you like it more than you thought you would," he added with a wink. Hermione headed for the door, intending to show him out.

Draco grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her back towards him, his face suddenly soft but strict. "Hermione, you can trust me. I will never do anything you're not comfortable with."

Hermione's heart jumped, but she hid it well, "you do remember you're blackmailing me, don't you?" Hermione reminded him. Draco laughed.

"I prefer to think of it more as... providing added incentive for you to comply with a mutually beneficial agreement." Hermione rolled her eyes. Draco leaned towards Hermione slightly, his face serious, "surely you realize by now Granger that I won't ever repeat your secret. I'm not that sort of man. You can relax."

They weren't nearly as close as they had been earlier while they were dancing, but still Hermione's breath caught in her throat. Her skin tingled as Draco traced his fingers up her arm and back to her shoulders, stepping behind her once more. It was hard not to let her muscles relax under his skilled hands, but the moment Hermione closed her eyes and leaned into it, she suddenly realized just how tired she was. How tired she had been for a very, very long time.

She stepped away from Draco, keeping her back towards him. She wrapped her arms around herself, her skin cold where his warm hands had just been.

"What's wrong?" Malfoy asked, taking a step towards her but keeping his hands at his sides.

A tear fell from Hermione's lashes suddenly, and she instinctively moved to brush it away. Draco recognized the movement, and turned the witch around. Hermione ducked her head and tried to hide her face from him, but Draco cupped her chin and lightly lifted her face up to reveal the tears.

"Have I done something wrong? Please, tell me," Draco pleaded, "so I can be sure never to do it again."

"No, no you haven't done anything wrong, really," Hermione insisted.

"Well that would be a first," Draco joked lamely.

Hermione tried to laugh, but only managed a small twitch at the corner of her mouth.

"I'm just… so tired." Another tear slipped out and left a trail down her cheek. She didn;t move to wipe it away this time, but kept her arms around herself, trying to hold it together.

"I can leave, I'm sorry. I've overstayed my welcome, you need rest surely. It's late." Draco said, but paused, reluctant to go, not wanting to leave the witch alone.

"I'm not… it's not that kind of tired. I barely sleep most nights anyway."

Draco waited for her to explain but when she didn't he gently prompted her, "what kind of tired is it then?"

"Hermione met his gaze, "have you ever been exhausted down to your core? Just so tired of going through the movements every day, tired of holding yourself together, pretending everything is fine?"

"Yes," Draco answered quietly, leaving Hermione wondering why he would ever feel that way. Perhaps when his father was sent to Azkaban, or when he witnessed Dumbledore's death.

"You must miss Potter," Draco commented. Hermione hadn't even been thinking specifically of her old friend, but now the thought of him sent a dagger through her heart and more tears spilled out. She held herself tighter and nodded.

"I might not understand his particular appeal, but I know what it's like to miss a friend," Draco said softly, "what I don't understand is this, my old mates and I don't get on anymore because they're bigoted pricks. You and Potter… seemed to have a stronger connection than a mere sexual dalliance could sever."

Hermione looked down at her feet, oddly feeling guilty about lying to Malfoy. The feeling irritated her, and suddenly she felt angry, remembering all he had ever done to her, was _currently_ doing. For Merlin's sake he was blackmailing her! He said he would never tell, but could she really believe him? After everything? How much could one man change after only so many years?

Her temper boiled up, and when she met Draco's gaze again she was glowering.

"Well I'm _sorry_ my life doesn't make sense to you, but that doesn't make it any less real. And I don't really expect you to understand anyway," she snapped.

Draco's eyebrows narrowed. So this is what he gets for trying to be nice? Merlin, he wasn't even trying to pry for once!

"You're tired." He said shortly, "I'll leave you to rest."

And with that Malfoy left, and as soon as the door closed Hermione fell to her knees, sobs choking her and leaving her weak. She eventually fell asleep right there on the wooden living room floor.


	12. Chapter 12: The Tree

_Oh my gosh, two chapters in a day? When will this madness end? I know it's short, but it's something. Sorry._

"Figlio."

"Fillio."

"Less emphasis on the second i, _Figlio."_

"Filyo."

"Better," Hermione praised.

"So, any idea why my _Figlio_ has been sulking around the house the last few days?" Narcissa asked.

Hermione pursed her lips. The older witch could be incredibly focused.

"No idea," she lied.

"Really," Narcissa hummed.

"Figlia. Daughter."

"Speaking of, how are your parents? They don't visit often do they?"

Hermione tried not to sigh. Narcissa really couldn't care less about learning Italian.

"Sorry dear, didn't mean to upset you."

"No, don't be silly," Hermione said, "they're just very busy. Final exams are coming up. They're professors."

"Yes I know. But still, you're their daughter, surely they can make time."

Hermione said nothing.

"Well, in their absence, I'll be your madre."

" _Grazie_ ," Hermione thanked her. She genuinely was thankful for Narcissa, even though she could be a bit much at times. But then, what are mothers for.

"You should come over to cheer him up," Narcissa said.

"Sorry?"

"Draco. I'm sure a romantic surprise visit from you will snap him out of it."

Hermione squirmed, she didn't like lying to Narcissa. She didn't much like lying at all, though she certainly had practice. "I have to get back to work, I finally get to go into the field today, break some curses."

"Oh well, tomorrow then. Or later tonight. You're always welcome in our home you know."

"Thank you," Hermione said, genuinely appreciative despite Narcissa's irritating persistence.

It wasn't a lie, anyway, she really did finally get to start in the field today. She was trying to keep her hopes in check, it would probably all be vaguely routine, she doubted she would learn much new.

She wasn't wrong. The first day it was all simple prank hexes like doors that put you right back in the room you were trying to leave, and a girl turned into a squirrel that took Hermione back to the day Draco was turned into a ferret (transmogrification hexes were easiest when the form was a rodent for some reason). Nothing she hadn't encountered back in Italy. Still, it was good practice. She had learned all she could in Italy, the best country in all of Europe for breaking obliviate charms, but Great Britain excelled in curse-breaking in general. Perhaps more general knowledge would help, but Hermione's spirit had been broken long ago.

Near the end of the day Hermione got a call from a familiar address. Harry and Ginny's house had been hexed. A feeling of dread washed over her as her boss explained the situation.

Ginny had called in about a hex that caused the tree in their backyard to grow and grow and grow and in less than a day it was about 20 feet wide and too tall to see the top of. It was called a Beanstalk Hex and Hermione had never encountered one in Italy, her boss was sending her out with Neville Longbottom to deal with it, since he was an expert herbologist.

Hermione gathered her will and headed out, a whirl of emotions inside of her. She was excited to deal with a new kind of hex, but the thought of seeing her old friends again… Contrasting feelings of nausea and longing twisted her gut.

When she arrived Neville wasn't there yet. She drew herself up, determined to be strong, or at least seem strong, because she knew that's what Pansy would advise. Never show weakness, a bit of Slytherin wisdom Hermione agreed with.

She knocked on the door, and Ginny answered. Apparently she was expecting Hermione, because she didn't seem surprised.

"Hello, the tree's out back, but you've probably already noticed," the witch said coldly. Ginny was the warmest person Hermione knew, downright firey really. It never stopped hurting to be shut out like this.

"Yes, I could see from the front," Hermione responded, her tone carefully emotionless but not unkind.

Ginny stood aside, allowing Hermione into the house. When Hermione paused Ginny said, "Harry's at work."

Relief was plain on the girl's face, and Ginny couldn't ignore it.

"I just don't understand why you did it 'Mione. None of us do. If you would just explain…" Ginny pleaded softly.

Just then Neville arrived by broomstick, and Hermione took the opportunity to flee, "I'll just get to work then," she said, not looking up at Ginny but rushing through the house to the back door. She knew where it was. Harry and Ginny had bought this house shortly before Hermione left, and she had dozens of memories of helping the couple move in and having dinner in their kitchen. Hermione kept her eyes on the ground, she couldn't handle those memories today.

Neville joined her shortly, and Ginny hung back in the doorway, watching from afar.

"So, any ideas?" Hermione asked.

"Nice to see you too Hermione," Neville joked.

Hermione blushed, "sorry, I guess I've been hanging out too much with Slytherins lately."

"Excuses, excuses," Neville teased.

"It's good to see you Neville. How's Luna and the kids?"

"Lysander just started walking, but Lorcan's having trouble. Possibly because he just really likes rolling around in order to get places," Neville laughed, "and Luna's just as perfect as ever. We've missed you. I thought you would stop by, or at least tell us when you got back from Italy," he added quietly.

Guilt washed over Hermione. She had been so wrapped up in self-pity that she had just assumed all her former friends hated her, when clearly that wasn't true.

"I'm so sorry Neville, I've just been overwhelmed. You should all come over for dinner sometime."

Neville hesitated, "will Draco be there?"

Hermione nearly snorted, "No, of course not."

"Good," Neville said, and Hermione actually felt a twinge of annoyance, which she pushed away as being insane, "now about this tree."


	13. Chapter 13: Nargle Eyes

_Ah! I have a serious case of writer's block on the next chapter. But I promise, satisfaction is coming soon!_

Nearly a week later Hermione still hadn't heard from Draco. Of course, she hadn't reached out to him either, but that's not how this thing they had worked, whatever it was.

She was on her way back from the grocery store, thinking about dinner that night. Luna and Neville were coming over, and she was oddly nervous. She hadn't really talked to them in five years. They had sent each other letters here and there, but for the first year Hermione had been so caught up in obsessively learning everything she could about breaking spells that they barely talked. And once things began to calm down, it had seemed too late to rekindle the friendship.

As soon as Hermione stepped into her apartment her phone rang, Draco.

"I want to come"

"To what?" Hermione asked.

"Dinner. With Longbottom."

She knew she shouldn't have mentioned that to Narcissa at lunch.

"Absolutely not"

"We had a deal"

"No, you had blackmail" Hermione corrected.

"As if you didn't benefit"

"How exactly did I benefit?"

"You got connections. A job. Invited to important social events. Friends."

Hermione was silent.

"Let me come"

"They don't want you there. You tormented Neville in school."

"And I'd like a chance to apologize."

"You want a chance to get ahead," Hermione snapped.

"Yes. And to apologize," Draco said sincerely.

Hermione sighed. "Fine. But you better be good."

"When am I not?" Draco asked innocently. Hermione rolled her eyes and hung up.

Great. Now she had to tell Neville about their extra guest, and try to convince him to come anyway. Why was she so bad at telling the Malfoys no? They were so damn persistent.

Neville was hesitant, but Hermione explained that Draco wanted to apologize, and insisted he really had changed. Neville was too nice to refuse, and Luna was even excited.

 **. . .**

"Hello Hermione," Luna said in her sweet, lilting voice.

"Hey 'Mione," Neville said.

"Hello Luna, hello Neville" Hermione smiled, inviting the pair inside.

Hermione had purposely told Draco to arrive fifteen minutes later than she told Neville and Luna to arrive. She didn't want the couple jumping to any inappropriate conclusions about her living situation.

"Where are Lorcan and Lyssander?" Hermione asked.

"The boys are with their grandfather, strengthening their natural bond," Luna answered dreamily, "that's very important for twins."

"I didn't know that," Hermione said. She had never really known how to respond to Luna's...quirkiness. "Neville, how's the new school year going?"

"It's amazing, Hagrid is letting us borrow his Tyrinells to show the students their blooming. We'll be watching from far away, of course, so the acid won't reach us and burn the students. Still, it's so lucky Hagrid has some. They're endangered you know. Lots of people assume they're just weeds, and pull them out before they're ready to hatch and they die. It's so sad."

"That's terrible," Hermione said, "those poor creatures. I read they're so sweet after they grow out of their hatchling phase, and get rid of all that acidic fluid."

"And beautiful too," Draco added, appearing in the doorway. He apparently was too good to knock. The gesture was a tad bold for Hermione's liking, Draco was getting far too familiar.

"Hello Draco," Luna greeted him. Neville was silent, and seemed to shrink a bit. Luna subtly took her husband's hand.

"Good evening Luna, Neville," Draco greeted sweetly.

"Dinner's already on the table," Hermione said, hoping food would occupy her guests mouths enough that the awkwardness would subside.

They all sat down around the wooden rectangular table, Hermione and Draco on one side and Luna and Neville on the other.

"Draco, how are your dreams?" Luna asked pleasantly.

"Surprisingly pleasant as of late, and yours?"

"Filled with thestrals."

"Fascinating. Do you reckon it means anything?"

"They tend to signal when tragedy has happened or is coming," Luna said dreamily, her small smile never faltering. There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Neville, I'd like to take this opportunity to apologize," Draco started, "I realized far too late that trying to make others weak didn't make me strong, it just made me an arsehole. I am genuinely sorry for everything I did to you back at Hogwarts. I should have apologized years ago, and I hope you can forgive me, but I understand if it's too late."

Neville looked taken aback, but rushed to accept the apology.

"Thank you. Truly, thank you," Draco said.

Hermione studied him carefully, until Luna cleared her throat and she snapped out of it. "Can we eat now?"

Hermione and Neville laughed lovingly at Luna's familiar bluntness. "Yes, please," Hermione told them.

 **. . .**

"That was delicious Hermione, I had no idea you were such an amazing cook," Neville said.

"It's hard not to pick up a few things about cooking in Italy. Plus I've read loads of books on how to cook."

"Of course you have," Draco rolled his eyes, but then added, "the food was amazing."

"Thank you."

"So Neville, I heard you taught Emmalyn Moreberry a few years back," Draco said.

Neville looked vaguely uncomfortable at the name, "yes, why?"

"She's one of my clients."

There was a silence. Moreberry had been accused of selling powerful love potions, perhaps even during her school days. Love potions that made the victim go nearly insane, and become more… sexually willing. Rumor even had it that one of her potions ended up in the minister's own cup. A temporary minister, Percy Weasley, had to be named for a week. His responsibilities had been limited, of course. It was a very high profile case.

"I was wondering about your personal thoughts on the matter," Draco continued, despite the tense air that now filled the room.

"Well… she was a fine student. Great, actually. Very interested in herbology. She-"

"Any particular aspects of herbology? Like perhaps, hayweed? Org eyelashes?" Draco pressed.

Hayweed and org eyelashes were common ingredients in love potions. Neville shifted uncomfortably, "Not that I noticed, no," he said.

"Did your syllabus ever include… nargle eyes?"

Luna gasped, and Hermione's eyes widened. Nargles were supposedly extinct, largely because people so often killed them and used them for potions. They were hard to catch, and made incredibly powerful elixirs.

"Of course not!" Neville said.

"Sorry, didn't mean to overstep. Really, I'm sorry. I'm used to hanging out with Slytherins with no threshold of what's too much," Draco laughed, but this time Hermione didn't quite believe he was truly sorry.

 **. . .**

"What the hell was that?" Hermione asked as soon as the door closed behind Neville and Luna.

"What?" Draco asked innocently. As if Draco Malfoy could ever be innocent.

"About Emmalyn Moreberry! That was highly inappropriate. Is that why you wanted to come tonight? To _use_ Neville for information on your silly case?" Hermione asked, outraged.

"Firstly, you know full well that case is not _silly._ Several very _not_ silly sexual assault charges are tied up in it."

"Which is why you shouldn't be defending-"

"Second," Draco cut the witch off, "I was merely utilizing an opportunity I saw. I told you I wanted to come to apologize, and that was not a lie."

" _Still,"_ Hermione stressed, "that was incredibly rude!"

"Don't act so shocked Granger. You know the only reason you and I associate with one another is so that I keep your secret, and you keep me on good terms with the more progressive witches and wizards."

Hermione was silent. She did not point out that he had claimed the other day that her secret was safe with him, because then she would have to ask herself why she really let him come over for dinner. If that were true, if he really could be trusted not to repeat a false secret, why was she still talking to him? She loathed him.

"It's time for you to leave," Hermione said, opening the door for him.

"Granger, come on, you-"

"Now."


	14. Chapter 14: Bubblegum Cupcakes

_I've had half of this chapter written from the start, but the beginning was so difficult! I promise I'll try to get the next chapter out soon. Thanks for sticking with me and thanks for the reviews, they really help motivate me._

"Hello Hermione,"

"Hi Luna," Hermione said, balancing the phone between her ear and her shoulder while she mixed ingredients in a bowl.

"Can I still expect you tonight?"  
"Of course, I'm bringing bubblegum cupcakes."

"My favorite!" Luna said. Hermione laughed, as if there was any other reason to bake bubblegum cupcakes.

"With cotton candy frosting," Hermione added. The other witch squealed with delight, and Hermione smiled.

"Well I can't wait to see you and Draco there."

"Oh you invited him?"

"Of course. Is that okay?"

"Um… sure. It's fine," Hermione said, biting her lip.

"Are you two okay?"

"We're...fine."

"You two share a good energy," Luna said dreamily.

"...Thanks."

 **. . .**

"Well I already knew a bit of Italian before I went," Hermione was saying to Luna when Ron, Lavender Brown, Harry, and Ginny arrived. She tensed, and pretended not to see them. They offered her the same courtesy.

Luna noticed the tension, and grabbed Hermione's arm, dragging her over to her old friends.

"I'm growing tired of this," Luna said resolutely.

"Luna, no, seriously you don't understand I-"

And suddenly she was face-to-face with Harry Potter.

"...Hello" Harry said after an awkward moment.

"Um, hi," Hermione responded, "hello Ginny, Lavender… Ron," she added, greeting each in turn.

"Welcome to my birthday!" Luna said cheerily.

"It looks lovely, I love how you've done the floating candles, just like back in Hogwarts," said Ginny.

"Yes, I miss Hogwarts. I miss seeing you all every day. Don't you miss that?" Luna asked pointedly.

"I do," Ginny said quietly.

"Harry, don't you miss that?" Luna asked.

"...Sometimes," Harry answered, looking at Hermione. Hermione averted her gaze, choosing instead to look at the floating candles all around them.

"Let's pretend we're back at school, just for one night," Luna suggested, "you wouldn't deny me my birthday wish, would you?"

Harry laughed softly, "no one could ever deny you anything Luna," he said lovingly.

But then Draco walked in.

"Hello Draco," Luna greeted him pleasantly.

Her guests tensed, and Ron's fists clenched.

"Hello Luna, happy birthday," Draco said smoothly, seemingly unaffected by the sudden uncomfortableness and Ron's glare.

"Thank you Draco. Have you and Hermione been fighting?"

"Luna!" Hermione exclaimed.

Draco merely laughed, "it's possible my lovely witch and I have hit a rough patch, yes." Hermione blushed furiously, and Harry shifted uncomfortably. Lavender grew bored and left for the refreshments table.

"Maybe she still has some sense left after all then," Ron said bitterly.

Draco laughed, "wow, I've heard a lot of insults directed towards Granger, but senseless has never been one of them," he turned to Hermione, "you're entirely sensible love."

Hermione didn't think she could blush any harder, but she managed.

"This is disgusting," Ron scowled, "is this why you came over here Hermione? To make me queasy?"

"Ron, please," Hermione begged.

"Traitor," Ron scowled.

"Watch it," Malfoy warned.

"Or what Death Eater?"

"Don't call me that," Malfoy said slowly, a dark tone in his voice and danger in his grey eyes.

"Why not? It's what you are. Hanging out with Hermione doesn't change that, especially now that she's-

"Ron stop," Harry said.

"A dirty slag," Ron finished.

Malfoy lunged. "Draco no!" Hermione screamed, lunging towards him but not fast enough. Draco's fist connected with Ron's face with a horrible cracking sound. Ron cried out in pain and fell to the ground. Ginny screamed and Harry withdrew his wand.

"Stupify!" Harry cried, knocking Draco onto his back. Ron scrambled up, and crawled on top of the stunned wizard. Ron began punching Draco's face repeatedly while yelling wildly, until Draco caught him by the wrist and delivered a blow of his own. Draco pushed Ron off of him, and was about to try and attack the wizard again when Hermione seized him from behind.

"Stop it Draco, please!" she begged, and he complied, partly because her grip around his waist was impressively tight. Ron, however, was not likewise restrained. He leaped on Draco with a howl, made all the more wild by the blood streaming from his nose. Draco struggled to avoid Ron's blows without hitting back, but most of Ron's wild swings managed to land. Hermione cried out in protest, but her voice was lost in the chaos. Finally, she released Draco, and shoved him behind her to scream directly in Ron's face, "Stop!"

Whether Ron had enough time to stop himself or not, Hermione couldn't tell, but the blow originally intended for Malfoy hit her square in the jaw. She fell back into Draco, who caught her and held her upright. She trembled in his arms.

Hermione stood back up, and took a step towards Ron, so they were only inches apart. She lifted her chin, as if to show him where he had hit her. Tears streamed down her face, and she took a shaky breath before saying slowly and sharply, "that's enough."

Hermione turned to Draco, and he drew a sharp breath when he saw the tears on her cheeks. She lifted her hands and tried to push him to turn around, but he resisted.

"Please," Hermione begged quietly.

Draco's jaw clenched, and he glared at Ron who glared back. Harry took a step forward to stand next to his friend.

"What then Granger, you're just going to let them keep treating you like this the rest of your life? I know you feel guilty, but you don't deserve this."

"Shut up Malfoy!" Ron yelled, "you don't know anything! This is none of your business!"

"I'll decide what is and isn't my business," Draco snapped, "and Granger already told me what happened." Hermione tensed, and tried harder to push Malfoy away, but he held firm. "And she doesn't deserve to be shunned by people who once called her their friend! She doesn't deserve your insults when she's just trying to move on with her life! She _certainly_ doesn't deserve to be _assaulted_ all because she couldn't stand your grimy hands on her another night!"

" _What?_ " Ron shouted, angry and confused, and angrier still because he was confused.

"Draco please, let's go," Hermione begged. Draco began to turn and comply, but Ron stepped in front of them, blocking their way.

"What exactly did she tell you she did?" Ron asked.

"Ron, let it be," Harry said, and Ron hesitated long enough for Hermione to grab Draco and apparate away.


	15. Chapter 15: Obliviate

_Hopefully this is a satisfying reveal. Sorry for the long wait. I know it's short but I wanted to get it out quickly._

"Is there something you want to tell me?"

"Not particularly."

"Granger." Malfoy said simply.

Hermione sighed. Maybe it was because she was so emotionally drained, or maybe because he would probably figure it out on his own anyway, but she decided to just tell him.

"Fine. Fine! You win, okay? Before the war, when Voldemort and his death eaters were killing the families of muggle-born wizards, I-

"Wait, wait," Malfoy interrupted.

"What?" Hermione said, exasperated.

"You don't have to tell me. I promise, I won't go digging through your past."

Hermione was floored. She didn't know what to say.

After a long pause, Hermione sat and the table and motioned for Malfoy to join her, when he did she continued, "I cast obliviate on my parents, made them forget me and move to Australia. They always liked Australia. But after the war, when I went back to undo it, it didn't take. My original spell was too strong. They couldn't remember me."

"That's why you got into curse-breaking," Malfoy said, realization dawning on his face.

Hermione nodded, "I went to Italy to find the leading experts on curse-breaking. It was meant to be a short trip. I didn't even ask Ron to join me, he was busy with Quidditch practice anyway. I met a man there who said he could help me, for a price. It was too much, I refused, and went back to Australia to try again. No use. I read every book I could find, I didn't leave the house for three months. I went back to Australia, and tried again. I couldn't do it. I was desperate, I love my parents, I'm lost without them."

Hermione's eyes began to water, and she looked down at her hands on the table and blinked away the tears. When she regained her composure, she went on, talking slowly and choosing her words carefully "I found the man again, and gave him what he wanted. He took off with it, never even tried to reverse the spell."

"What was it?" Malfoy prompted.

Hermione's face scrunched and her brow furrowed, "I can't say. Literally, I can't."

Malfoy cocked his head to the side, then understood, "a tongue-twisting hex."

Hermione struggled to nod, "he was an expert at curses, truly."

"But I don't understand, what's all this got to do with Weasley?"

Hermione shook her head, "not Ron," she said tightly, as though it pained her to say.

"Potter?" Malfoy guessed. Hermione was silent, which he took for affirmation.

"When I went to his house to take...the item, Ginny caught me. I was...I...ugh!" Hermione cried out in frustration, "I used the item because it was already in my hand to cast petrificus totalus on her, but since it wasn't mine it ended up sending her flying across the room. I had to meet the man to give him the item in a couple minutes, so I just… I just left her there, on the floor." Hermione said, shame clear in her voice.

"The item was… Harry's wand?" Draco asked. Hermione cringed, like his words physically hurt her, "that's why they abandoned you? Just for that?"

"Just for that?" Hermione cried, "is that not enough? I _hurt_ Ginny! I just left her there! I stole Harry's wand and disappeared, and didn't even apologize. I was so caught up in breaking the spell on my parents, I didn't care about anything else, anyone else. I never even formally broke of Ron and my engagement."

"So you didn't even try to explain? After eight years of friendship? You went through a _war_ together," Draco insisted.

"How could they ever forgive me for what I did? I can't even forgive myself. And it was all for nothing, my parents still have no idea who I am."

"They've got those big old Gryffindor hearts, they'll forgive you," Malfoy said.

Hermione shook her head, "even if that were true, I don't deserve to be forgiven."

Draco stepped closer to Hermione, and held her by the shoulders, urging her to look up into his eyes. When she did, he said seriously, "you. Deserve the world. Everything you did, you did out of love. You were noble, you were determined, you were Slytherin at its best."

Hermione blushed, and looked down sadly, "Harry and Ron were never big fans of Slytherin," she said.

"People can change," Malfoy said, wiping a tear from Hermione's cheek, "if you give them a chance."

Hermione looked back up into Draco's sympathetic grey eyes, and saw something there she had never noticed before. She got on her tip-toes, leaned forward, and kissed him.


	16. Chapter 16: Long Overdue

Draco didn't hesitate, he kissed her back passionately. Hermione reached up to tangle her fingers in Draco's pale white hair, loving the soft feel of it between her fingers. Hermione's entire body felt alive, like she could feel every inch of herself. Hermione could feel Draco's thick, strong hand pulling her waist as close to him as he could. She could feel his tongue lightly grazing her lips, taunting her. She could feel his other hand hot against her thigh, just slightly under the hem of her dress. She didn't even pull away when Draco unbuttoned her coat. He let it fall off of her soft, dark shoulders. Hermione moaned in protest as Draco suddenly removed his hand from her thigh to unbutton it, but she was satisfied when he tangled his fingers in her mess of hair.

Draco was so overwhelmed with the feel of her that he was almost trembling. He wanted so badly to just push her against the wall and press against her until he couldn't tell where his body ended and hers began.

Hermione was so short that she had to stand on her tiptoes, and lean into Draco for balance. He was more than happy to support her weight. Hermione couldn't help but let out a soft moan when Draco bit her lower lip, and Draco moved from kissing her lips to her neck because he didn't want to stop her from moaning by having her mouth otherwise occupied.

Hermione tore off Draco's shirt, exposing his defined muscles. "Draco," she moaned quietly into his ear, so that her breath fell across his bare collarbone. Draco groaned at the beautiful sound of his name falling from her lips. He had never heard anything sound so good, especially not his own name. But coming from Hermione's perfect, full lips, Draco suddenly loved the sound of his own name.

Draco pulled lightly on Hermione's hair, angling her neck back so her lips were once again at his mouth, and kissed her. He moved his other hand back to her thigh, and slipped it further underneath her dress.

Hermione pulled away then, but Draco gripped her waist and pulled her back towards him, then reconsidered. He pulled back, "sorry," he said roughly.

"It's fine," Hermione said breathlessly.

"I've been wanting that for a long time," Draco said.

"Really?"

"Come on," Draco said, taking Hermione's hand and pulling her out the door.

 **. . .**

Draco apparated them back to the party, and they found everything pretty much as they left it. Ginny was yelling at Ron, Lavender was looking bored, and Luna was dancing.

Ron saw Draco and jumped up, but Ginny pushed his shoulder back down, hard. Draco held up his hands in surrender, "I'm not here to fight, I'm just the messenger."

"Potter," Draco addressed the calmer wizard, "would you like to know why Hermione stole your wand and ran off to Italy?"

"And broke off our engagement, and hurt Ginny," Ron added.

Draco glared at him, "yes, and that."

"I think it's about time," Ginny said.

Draco intertwined his fingers with Hermione's and pulled her closer to her former friends, and sat down in the grass in front of them, even though he was in a clean light grey suit that matched his eyes.

Draco told them the whole story, which caused Hermione's skin to burn because of the tongue-twisting hex at times, but she bit her lip and soldiered through it.

When he was done, Ginny said, "why didn't you just tell us? I know you were hexed, but you managed to tell Malfoy."

"I didn't think it would matter. Betrayal is betrayal. And after what I did… how could you possibly forgive me? I couldn't bear to face you all again."

"Bullocks!" Ron said, "you didn't _have_ to do anything. You made a choice to betray Harry, and to leave Ginny when she was injured.

Hermione looked down, tears in her eyes, "I know," was all she could say.

"Hermione," Harry's word sounded like a sigh, whether of relief or of exasperation Hermione couldn't say, "I just miss you. My new wand is better anyway, I've hardly felt sorry for the loss of the old one. I just wanted you to talk to me, to value our friendship enough to fight for it, enough to at least try and work it out!"

Hermione's eyes widened, "I'm so sorry Harry! You're right, I should have tried, I just… I couldn't bear to be around you when we weren't friends."

"Forgiven," Harry said instantly. Hermione, we've been apart long enough. I don't want my son not to know you."

Ron gasped, "Ginny! You're pregnant?"

Ginny blushed, "Harry!" she chastised, "was that really the time," she said in a way that Harry knew meant she wasn't really mad.

"Harry," Hermione melted into him with a long overdue hug.

. . .

"Hey," Pansy said cheerfully, sporting a brand new short black and golden dress by some famous designer Hermione couldn't remember the name of. Hermione was wearing a deep blue loose dress with bronze stitching from the back of Luna's closet.

"Hello," Ginny greeted the witch back, wearing a pastel yellow dress and all black jewelry.

"Hi Pans," Hermione smiled.

The witches talked and laughed together as Harry, Draco, and Neville gorged themselves on party food and Ron and Luna talked out on the balcony. Ron was still pouting, but he was lightening up slowly. Ginny could tell he and Draco would eventually find too much in common to continue hating each other.

Draco crossed the room to Hermione, and placed his hand lightly on her lower back. He was wearing a deep red suit with a golden button-down underneath.

"Hey there," he purred. Pansy rolled her eyes, "Thanks for the invite Gin, love the theme I look absolutely dashing in your house colors by the way, Gryffindor would've been lucky to have me!." He said, leading Hermione away as she called goodbyes over her shoulder. "Let's get home," he whispered low in Hermione's ear.


End file.
